You'll Be My Blackbird
by InaLndofMyth
Summary: CHAPTER ONE: Red. All the girl could see was red. Red hands, red feet, red lips, red street. Red on hair and red on skin, red on bodies and red on limbs. Was red really coating everything in sight or was her vision playing tricks of light? She supposed it could've been either. But why was she seeing red everywhere? The girl looked down at her lap, and suddenly she remembered eve
1. chapter 1

Author's Note: I just began writing this story, literally, and I'm still working out the whole plot, climax, resolution, etc. part so I'm uncertain on how regularly I'll update this. I posted this chapter to see how people generally took to this story. Now I'm not one of those people who beg for their stories to be reviewed. For me, if I love my work than that's enough. It's always wonderful for others to love or enjoy your work as much as you do and to hear nice (or helpful constructive) feedback, but please don't feel pressured to review. I won't hold it over your heads. :)

But if you could find some time in your day to just say if you like this or not, that would be super helpful!

Now on with this story!

CHAPTER ONE:

Red. All the girl could see was red. Red hands, red feet, red lips, red street. Red on hair and red on skin, red on bodies and red on limbs. Was red really coating everything in sight or was her vision playing tricks of light? She supposed it could've been either. But why was she seeing red everywhere? The girl looked down at her lap, and suddenly she remembered everything...

"THEY'RE COMING!"

"I KNOW!"

"RELL!"

"I'M GOING AS FAST AS I CAN!"

"HURRY, THEY'VE PAST STARBUCKS!"

"Damnit!" She muttered as she tugged on the jarred zipper.

"RELL!"

"I'M COMING!" Rell managed to zip up the backpack and sling it onto her shoulder before running into the feminine hygiene section. "I'm here," she panted to her companion.

They heard a horrible cacophony of groaning and morning from the front of the store. The duo shared a panicked look. "Go out the back!"

The girls sprinted to the back exit and into the redden sunrise. The sun's bright beams seemed to seep into the inky darkness, making the sky look as if it had veins pulsing through it's navy body. Three black crows squawked from their perch on a rooftop as their peaceful naps were interrupted by the banging of a heavy metal door slamming shut.

Rell winced as the birds flew away in a huff. The noise was so loud it would surely send the walkers right to them; they might as well as be waving a flag and blowing a whistle.

"Where to now?" Rell asked her companion.

"Did you get everything on the list?"

"Did you?"

The girl smirked, her topaz eyes sparkling. "You know I did."

Rell opened her bag to display the nut bars, drinks and toilet paper that were piled inside. "I'm gonna have to get a new bag, soon. The zipper's broken—it's what held me up."

"Okay. I think I saw an accessory store somewhere. Do you have the map?"

Rell would remember the next events for the rest of her life as clearly as a reflection shown on a glass pan although she didn't see it happen until afterwards and by then it was too late.

A scream, the sound of growling and then torn flesh sounded behind her. Rell whirled around, gun at the ready, but she was too late. Her sister stood over the still corpse of a walker laying on the sidewalk. It was clear that she had stabbed it with the knife that was clutched in her hand.

"Hey," Rell said, noticing the terror written on the girl's face which was unusual for her tough character. "You ok? It startled me and I guess y—"

The girl swayed and would have fallen to the ground if Rell hadn't been there to catch her as she collapsed. "Here," Rell guided her sister by her arm to the ground. "You'll probably feel better laying down. I can't believe you're shak—" Rell felt a warm wetness on her hand and when she pulled it away, she saw red.

Rell yanked up the sleeve despite the other girl's protests—and there it was, a bite mark, beaming cruelly up at her. Rell couldn't speak. She could only gawk at the wound, mouth open and eyes bulging like the hideous gold fish she had once seen in a pet store.

"Rell," the girl said, her voice full of pain.

Rell didn't respond, so the girl spoke again. And again. And again.

"Yeah?" Rell finally choked out. She felt as thought her heart was constricting in her chest and her inside were made of crushing steel.

"The crows," her sister croaked.

Rell half heartedly dabbed the wound free of blood and spit—smearing more blood on her own hands in the process—but she knew it was no use. Her sister was going to die. Rell had always known that they both were going to die at some point, as every human did. Rell also knew the chances of survival were very slim when the world had first fallen. But Rell hadn't thought her sister would leave her so soon, so sudden, and so unprepared, in this cruel world.

"The crows. Three crows in a row means certain death. I knew it was a bad sign."

Rell let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh. "You and your superstations."

The girl smiled, but then her face twisted in agony. Rell adjusted her so that her head was in Rell's lap, but she couldn't do anything else but that. "Make it stop," Rell heard her whimpered.

The two were silent as Rell griped the shaking hands of the girl laying on the cement. Not a word was uttered between the two sisters but both knew what the other was thinking.

It will. Soon enough, it will.

"I'm sorry," Rell whispered. "I'm so sorry, I should've come when you called the first time and—"

"Shhhh," the girl consoled. Rell wanted to laugh and cry. Even when dying, her sister thought only of her. Rell thought she looked so pale and fragile, laying in an impossibly large, crimson pool of her own making. This scene was so completely opposite to how her sister was really like; lively, fierce, determined, confidant, unafraid. Her sister always knew what to do, what to say, and how to survive. From the beginning, Rell depended on her to keep them alive, and for six months they were successful.

"Here." The girl forced her knife into the cold palm of Rell's hand. "Take this. Use it for... You have to. Promise me you'll continue to fight."

"I... I..."

"Promise me! You, Esmeralda Porter, will see the end of this great big mess. I know you will."

"I can't," Rell protested pathetically. "I can't, how could I—?" How could she possibly survive on her own in this apocalyptic nightmare? Tears splattered the pavement.

"Just survive somehow. Please, for me. You have to keep going, keep fighting. Just survive this day, and all will be well."

Rell stared at her sister. Her blonde hair was dyed crimson, her clothes wet and red. The girl's face was twisted in agony but also had the expression of fierce determination. Could Rell do this alone? How could she keep on living if everyone she loved was truly and forever gone? How lonely and small could Rell's world possibly shrink?

"Please," the girl begged.

"All right," Rell finally said. If this was the last thing she could do for her sister, then she would try her best. "For you, I promise."

The girl smiled. "Thank you." Then she started coughing. To Rell's horror, her sister began hacking up bloody, mystery chunks.

"What do I do?" Rell felt hopeless as she watched the girl dry heaved on the pavement besides her. Rell was afraid of causing her more pain. "How do I help? Tell me! Anything!"

"Just—" she licked her ruby stained lips. She took a shuddering breath and shifted in Rell's lap. "I want to hear your voice. Say something, anything." A tear slipped down her cheek and mingle with the burgundy puddle by her side.

Rell couldn't speak, she was so choked up. But she tried, even though her voice was sore and she hadn't sang their song in years, Rell tried for her.

" _Black birds singin' in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were always waiting for this moment to arise. Black bird fly..._ "

The girl with red hair closed her eyes and her body relaxed. She was ready, Rell realized as she softly sang the hauntingly, beautiful song. Her sister was ready to go. She was finally going to be at peace, somewhere far away from this wicked nightmare that their world had became.

" _Black bird singin' in the dead of night_."

" _Take these sunken eyes and learn to see._ " The girl grasped Rell's hand tighter.

" _All your life, you were always waiting for this moment to be free_ ," the two sang in harmony. " _Black bird—"_

The girl's hand fell limply from Rell's. Her body couldn't have possibly grown so cold so soon, but to Rell, her sister's corpse was as chilled as a figure made of ice in her lap.

" _Fly_."

Rell stared at the glassy blue, blank depths that were once filled with warmth, love and laughter. With a trembling hand Rell closed the girl's eyelids and smoothed down her ratty, bloodied, blonde hair. Rell took a coin from her pocket and placed it beneath the girl's tongue. Then, with a twisted heart-wrenching cry, Rell plunged the knife into the forehead of her sister.

As here she was, six hours later in the same exact spot with her sister's dead body in her lap. Rell knew it was dangerous to stay there with a herd of walkers just around the block and in plain sight of any passerby. But she couldn't move. Her neck ached from the bent position it forcefully endured and her legs had fallen asleep from the dead weight of her sister, but something else kept Rell stationary.

A horrible sound, then, filled Rell's ears. A little dead girl wearing nothing but a black slip and feathers in her hair—bird feathers from her latest victim, no doubt—stood a few feet away, mechanically moving her jaw. Rell had half the mind to stay where she was and let the walker take her life, too. But her promise to her sister weighed upon her mind and Rell had never broken a promise before.

Rell gently lifted her sister off her lap and set her on the ground, fully emerging the head in the ruby puddle. Rell bent down and grasped the knife's handle. She wrenched it free of the skull and turned around, ready to face the walker.

The street was silent. Old newspapers and trash littered the ground. The stores and apartment buildings sky high were gray and stoic. Rell saw a figure out of her peripheral vision and she spun around to find a thin girl with red soaked clothing, black hair with streaks of silver, a blood splattered face, a knife in her hand and a wild, frightened and foreign look in her eyes.

This was her, Rell realized. This stranger, this terrified thing that the world had molded, formed and created, was her own reflection, and there was no sign nor trace of a walker anywhere at all.

The noise of something stepping on a plastic bag caught Rell's attention. It sounded like it was coming from where the herd walkers were hanging about before. Rell grabbed her gun and backpack and after a pause, numbly took the bag off her sister's body. If it were just one walker or even three, Rell could've stabbed them, but she knew the only hope to survive an entire herd was either heights or protection (preferably something high and sturdy, like walls).

Rell hoisted both bags on her shoulder and made to move, but before she took three steps a voice called out.

"Stop!"

Within seconds Rell had her gun raised and cocked. A human. Humans were more dangerous than the dead, she knew, from personal, past experiences.

"Put the gun down," came the voice again.

"Who are you? Where are you!" Rell quietly shouted, very mindful of the herd nearby. "Come out and show yourself!"

"I'm not coming out until you put the gun down."

Rell tightened her grip on the gun but then immediately loosen it. "Getting all tensed does you no good when it comes to firing," her sister had instructed. "When you get tense, your hands begin to shake and you usually can't shoot properly. So just try to relax, even if you're in a bad situation."

"How do you know I have a gun?"

"I can see you—No, I'm not on the roof so don't bother pointing up there."

"Then where are you?" She snapped. Rell was aggravated, sore, frightened, mourned her sister, and most of all, she was tired. She was tired of living in fear and uncertainty. She was tired of fighting for her life every day and not knowing if it was even worth it, if she would wake up one day and that would be her last.

"You can obviously see me, so you have to be somewhere on this street."

"Actually," came the voice laced with pleasantry. "I'm on 10th Avenue."

Rell frowned. She was on 42nd street.

"I can see you in the building's reflection. Now please, put the gun down. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Like hell you aren't," Rell snorted but lowered the gun all the same. She kept it cocked and was ready at any second to raise and fire, though.

"Lowered my gun. Will you come out now or what?" If someone was trying to attack or mug her she wanted to get it over with quickly.

A tall, African American boy slowly came around the corner and pointed his gun at Rell's head.


	2. Chapter 2

Rell blinked distortedly. She was in a dark, moving vehicle and she heard muffled voices from all around her. She was laying down on a blanket and her pistol wasn't anywhere in sight. Her jawline tickled and when she pulled her hand away, fresh blood coated her finger tips.

"Hey." Rell snapped her eyes up. It was the same boy from the city, holding alcohol swabs and a roll of clean bandages. "I didn't shoot you." he said, answering her unspoken question. "There was a biter behind you and I shot him. You fainted and then your ear started bleeding."

"Him? I... I thought I saw a little girl."

The boy gave her a strange look. "Nope, just a he."

Rell took the supplies and began cleaning her multiple cuts. She would never say this aloud but she was grateful for the sterilizer. Infection was a serious death sentence as a bite nowadays.

Rell glanced at the boy. He looked around his early twenties, had a fluffy afro of black hair and kind look which immediately put Rell at ease despite her conflicting, practical side.

"I want my pistol back. And my stuff. And I want to know who you people are, where you're taking me, and why."

The boy furrowed his brow. "Name's Mike, and how do you know if I'm with a group or not?"

Rell raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You aren't magically driving this van yourself, are you?"

Mike flushed and scratched his neck. "You got me."

Rell glared at him. "My pistol. Now." She was surprised he actually complied and returned her weapon and bags. The fact that they had been picked through didn't go unnoticed by her, but could she honestly blame him? Rell was a complete stranger. Mike didn't know who she was or what kind of person she was. Rell probably would've done the same if she were in his position, although she did double check the clip.

"Who was the biter you were holding?" Mike asked. "Assuming it wasn't a random dead corpse."

Rell's throat closed up and all her previous fears resurfaced. "My sister."

A pregnant pause.

"Was... did...?"

"Did I have to kill her?" Rell said tightly. "Yeah. She was about your age." She swallowed and furiously swept away any trace of wetness beneath her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Rell cleared her throat. "So, uh, where are we going?"

Mike's gaze lingered on her eyes but a smile gradually appeared on his face. "When was the last time you saw civilization?"

By the time the van had driven out of what once used to be the most well known city in the country, Mike had told Rell all about the refugee camp they were taking her to—they, meaning his three friends and the other members in the car. Jaren was the group's expertise on handling weapons; Glenn strategized every minute of the runs and Ryan was the sniper. She had been in the military before the fall of the world and could shoot almost anything no matter the distance, speed or size.

The refugee camp was situated just outside of New York State, Mike claimed. They had everything; fresh food, clean water, supplies, 24/7 watch patrol, you name it. About thirty people made up camp including four complete families and they were always looking for new people.

Mike's girlfriend, Melissa, also lived in this camp. The two were on their second anniversary date when the outbreak happened and were a few of the original founders.

"You'll like her, I'm sure," Mike said confidently. "There aren't many girls at camp besides Mel, Ryan and a couple of old ladies. Mel'll be glad to have someone to talk to. Ryan is a woman of very few words and the only thing you'd get out of a conversation with the oldies is useless gossip."

Rell nodded, smiled and commented in all the appropriate places but inwardly the girl wanted to curl up in an emotional unstable ball and simply bawl her eyes dry.

After roughly an hour of driving give or take, Rell felt the van slow and smoothly come to a screeching stop. Mike and his friends immediately unlatched the car doors and jumped out. Rell, however, hesitated just as she was getting out of the van. She stuffed her pistol in the back of her belt and left her hand there at the ready.

"We found a survivor in the city," she heard Mike say as she climbed out of the car. A group of ten or so stood around the van. To her left was Mike speaking to a man with a green eyes, brown hair and a charming smile.

"This one?" the man said. He studied her with his unnerving hazel eyes. "Impressive."

"This is Phillip," Mike told her. "And this is, uh—"

"Rell," Rell offered. She hadn't realized she hadn't given her name to Mike before then.

Phillip grasped her hand in his calloused own and shook it enthusiastically. "It's nice to meet you, Rell. We haven't seen a new face in months. Say, do you know if there might be any other survivors, like yourself, still left in the city?"

Rell narrowed her eyes a millimeter and gripped Philip's hand a little bit tighter. "There were, but they're all dead now."

"Oh? A shame, then," Phillip sighed and took his hand back. Rell couldn't bring herself to agree.

"Mike! Why don't you show Rell around camp? Then we can discuss living arrangements and whatnot."

Living arrangements? The weary and bewilderedness Rell felt must've shown on her face for Phillip dropped his smile and replaced it with a tilted head. "I believe we had a misunderstanding. I thought Mike invited you to join us and you'd accepted."

"I told her about camp—" Mike began.

"But we never got to the 'joining part'," Rell said, "because you see, I was sort of unconscious."

Phillip raised an eyebrow at Mike. "Unconscious?"

"Asleep. Not awake. Unable to—"

"I know what unconscious means, thank you very much." Phillip sniffed and turned to Rell. "Would you like to live here with us? We'd love to have you and you're welcome to leave anytime you wish, although I'm one hundred percent positive that our camp beats any place out there, alone."

"Why would you want me to join you?" Rell asked. "By the looks of it, in the only teenager in this place; wouldn't I just be a burden?"

Phillip smiled kindly, an unnamable glint in his eyes. "Adolescence is a 20th century invention."

The entire group seemed to hold their breath as they waited for Rell's reply. Rell felt that everything was moving too fast and she wished she could push a FREEZE button for only a few minutes so she could catch her breath. Her sister had only died a few hours before!

Mike said, "We aren't bad people, if that's what you're worried about," and Rell thought, I'll be the judge of that.

"I'll try this out," Rell decided. "But I want access to any weapons I may have or find at all times."

Phillip nodded his head eagerly. "Of course. Welcome to Camp Fowler!"

"Camp Fowler?" Rell exclaimed once Mike had lead her away from Pace. The make shift driving lot they had pulled into was the center of camp and everyone lived around it for a "fast getaway," Mike had claimed.

"What kind of name is that?"

Mike chuckled and showed her the designated relieving spot. "It's an unusual name I'll admit, but Phillip's daughter chose it and we couldn't persuade him change it. He said horrible names keep the trolls away."

Rell had to admit, she thought the camp was going to be a little more extravagant then it really was, thanks to Mike's over-the-top description. She didn't quite know what she was expecting specifically, but at least something fancier than a couple of tents and a peeing area.

"And this is where I live."

They had walked a complete circle by then. The parking lot was slightly to their left and a faded, striped camping tent sat before them. Mike lead her into the tent; they had to kneel it was so small. Inside there was only a large, padded blanket set to the one side and a small wooden crate and chest pushed to the other.

"It isn't much, but it's home," Mike said sheepishly. That was more than Rell could claim she had so she wasn't judging. "So what made you say yes?"

Rell fingered the blanket and imagined how comfy just a few seconds of dozing on it would feel, especially after sleeping on filthy, hard floors for the past month.

She said, "I don't know," which was completely a lie. Her sister's words echoed in her ear and her promise in her mind. Rell knew that if this was something good, she just might have a decent chance to survive.

"Mike?" A girl around her late teens poked her head into the tent. "Did you ask her the questions?" she asked Mike when she saw Rell.

"What?"

"Melissa this is Rell, Rell this is Melissa Hawkers," said Mike. He rolled his eyes as Melissa crawled into the tent. "Melissa has her unique way of... judging people."

"How many biters have you killed?" Melissa blinked her blue eyes at Rell.

"Uhh..."

"I find it best you just answer," Mike offered.

"Higher or lower than thirty?"

"Higher, I guess," Rell said. She stopped counting after the first three kills.

Melissa's eyes, so similar to her sister's, gave Rell the feeling that the older girl was diving into her head to read her mind; that she already know all there was to know about Rell. It was rather unnerving and Melissa's questions were odd.

"How many people have you killed?"

Rell's nostrils flared. "Higher than thirty."

Melissa and Mike looked shocked and weary. "Why?"

Rell folded her arms, it seemed to get chiller all of a sudden. "Because in this world it's either kill or be killed," she said flatly. "I did what I had to do to survive."

She watched their faces closely, wanting to see if they would storm out of the tent and demand she be kicked out of camp, or perhaps they would quiver with fear, or disgust, or distrust. What Rell didn't expect was neutral expressions and kind eyes.

"Have you figured out sleeping arrangements?" Melissa asked kindly.

Rell blinked and shook her head. "I was told I could pick any tent."

Melissa smiled. "Why don't I help you? I can show you the best places and let Mike rest from his run." She sat up and pecked him on the cheek. "I'll be right back," she told him before exiting the tent.

"Are... are you sure you want to sleep here?"

Rell sighed and threw her head back in exasperation. "Yes! For the tenth time, yes!"

"Okay, okay!" Melissa said. "I... it's just... why not be closer to the people? If you ever need help it'll be easier to get to you."

"I'm fine," Rell said firmly. She had chosen the tent farthest away from all the others and closest to the forest that stretched for miles. She was told that beyond the woods was a ghost town and beyond that was more trees, so walkers coming from that direction shouldn't be an issue. Gods forbade anything happened to the camp itself, Rell could use the forest to her advantage and hide in the trees.

"All right. Is there anything else you need?"

Phillip had given Rell a sleeping bag and a couple of books along with the small tent and Melissa had lent her some old clothes.

"No, I think I'm all set," Rell replied tiredly. A sudden wave of exhaustion hit her and she could barely keep her eyes open.

"Okay. I—there's just one more thing I want to ask you," Melissa said.

Rell bit back a groan and curled her hands into fists.

"The people you've killed before... were they a group?"

Rell snapped her eyes to Melissa's. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess, I suppose. Tt's a very slim chance you came upon thirty or more lone survivors."

Could this conversation get any more awkward?

"They deserved to die," Rell told the grass bitterly.

"What?"

She had spoken so softly she was sure only the wind could hear her. "The people, the group I killed? Even this horrible world was better off once they were gone."

With that said, the younger girl slipped inside her tent for the night.


End file.
